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Mary Asgari

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2024

Stories (4)

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4 Stories

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Grandmother

Mary Asgari

Submitted to Contest #323

*SSSNIP*A lock of hair every night. Liam was told to cut a lock of his shoulder length brown hair, put it in a jar, and place it on a small table in his closet every night. They were never very big snips. Just a few hairs alternating sides so that it was never noticeable. He never questioned why he had to do this. He just always did what his grandmother told him to do. And every morning when Liam opened the closet door to look at the jar, it was empty. He also never asked his grandmother where the hair went. He just knew that it kept her ha...

12 likes

Darkness in New Cortima City

Mary Asgari

Submitted to Contest #322

The soft pitter patter of rain on the cracked window had been a white noise constant for about an hour. The gray clouds above seemed to taunt her. Sola was laying on her bed with the back of her head cupped in both hands. Trapped in thought, while also thinking of nothing in particular. It had been a tumultuous couple weeks for Sola. She had been dumped and fired all in the span of a few days. Nothing new for a kid on the south side of town. Sola was of the opinion that a cloud of bad luck hung above her and her community, poorest of all the...

4 likes

Fated

Mary Asgari

The drive to the lake house was almost always a pleasant one. Father would often tell us rousing stories. Stories of his rebellious childhood. A stolen car. A muddied dining room before a party. A heist of my grandfather's cigar collection. Mother would always facetiously disapprove and play up her innocent childhood. Saying that us children "must never behave like your father did." But not this time. This time, the ride was quiet and excruciating. This time, mother was driving instead of father. This time, I played games with my eyes, hoppi...

1 like

Bright Side

Mary Asgari

Submitted to Contest #241

I never knew red was my favorite color until then. The way the moonlight shone on my shaking hands contrasted the maroon drops of blood in such a beautifully striking way. My mother always did teach me to look on the bright side of things, I guess. A small stream of blood was flowing down the short tip of the protruding knife, creating a now pool of blood on my hands and feet. Although the pain was searing, all I could think was how hard it was going to be to clean up this damn rug. I thudded to my knees and succumbed to the all too familiar...

9 likes